


If I Let Go

by stardustsroses



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, just so you know, just so you're prepared to grab the tissues, lots of tears to come friends, spoiler alert: our big blond druskelle is still very much dead in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 23:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: Let go, Nina. Let me go.I will not have anything else to hold on to then. I will keep falling into nothing.No, Nina. You will still have your wings. My little red bird. Fly away.





	If I Let Go

She knew she had stepped into a dream because she was not on a filthy boat anymore. Instead, she was walking in the snow. She knew it was a dream because even though the ice rose up to her knees, she did not feel the frost bite at her skin, she did not feel the cold. She knew it was a dream because Matthias was standing at her side.

“Right there,” he said to her in his own tongue, the rough Fjerdan vowels sounding more familiar to her than her native language. “Do you see that tree there?”

“Yes,” Nina said, her eyes glued to him. “Yes I see it.”

“Behind that,” Matthias said to her, pulling her close to the side of his body, “is where we are going.”

She wanted to tell him how she had missed his voice. How much she had longed to hear his Fjerdan accent rolling off his tongue, slipping through the cracks of her heart. She wanted to ask where he was taking her, what awaited for them behind that tree with the naked ash-grey branches. But the words never left her mouth, for Matthias looked down at her with a smile on his face and Nina realized that she could never find words again, that she did not know any at that moment when his crystal eyes gazed down at her, gleaming with the remains of the smile he reserved only for her.

“Wait,” Nina gripped his wrist, heart jumping out of her throat. “Wait, Matthias.”

“Let’s go, Nina.”

“Wait,” she said once more, pulling him back to her. “Wait, let me – let me see you.”

Matthias stood in front of her, cocking his head to the side. A question in his eyes, a thousand more in hers. So much she wanted to ask, so much. So much she wanted to tell him. Not enough time.

So Nina simply whispered, “I missed you.”

Bits of ice were gathering at his white-blond hair. It was longer now than the last time she saw him, the ends curling slightly at the nape of his neck. His breath formed little clouds of mist between them, but there was no shivering, no trembling from him. Just that smile. Matthias would never feel at odds here. The ice was fire to him – it was safety, it was home.

When he smiled again, she wanted to stop her heart from opening its wide wings and taking flight. When he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, gently dragging his warm fingers along her cheek (so real, he felt so real), Nina shut her eyes and tried to keep those colours that flashed in her mind close to her; tried to remember them, that blinding white and sky blue, that sunlight yellow and military grey. Colours that had once belonged in her world, but no longer did.

When he spoke he made her believe that the world had gained back its light. “I miss you too, Nina. My love.”

Nina let out a choked sob.

His arms were around her and he smelled like the forest, like the sky, like the snow. Like every good thing in her life. He was solid against her, just like she remembered it. His arms could crush her like a weak tree branch, and yet Matthias held her with the gentleness of a spring breeze. As if he were holding a small bird and not a thunderstorm that could raise the dead.

“I have things to tell you,” she cried against his chest. “So much to tell you.”

“There will be time,” Matthias said against her ear. He kissed her temple, “But now I need to show you something.”

He took her hand in his, and led her to the tree.

It was as if she could feel the snowflakes falling onto her head as Matthias pushed the tree branches aside to make way for them. Beyond it, there were hills of white. An endless carpet of white. The air smelled of fresh pine and mountainsides. It smelled of him.

Matthias touched the small of her back, and Nina almost began crying again at how real that single touch felt. How she remembered the way he used to touch her. So tentative, so careful, always so restrained. He pointed north.

A house stood a few feet away. Decently sized, two stories high, without fences or gates. It was covered in white like the rest of the hills, but the pointed roofs and the polished windows seemed to glimmer. It was surrounded by trees and frozen bushes. Sleeping wildflowers with their lowered petals covered the perimeter around it.

“What is it?” She found herself asking, despite what she was seeing.

“Come,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “Let me show you.”

The door opened before Matthias raised his hand. The inside was not at all what she expected.

It was furnished luxuriously. Glistening dark wood covered the floors, and Nina was certain that she was imagining the faint smell of paint hanging in the air, for it was not possible, in dreams, to smell such things. He showed her the living room, heavily decorated, cosy, warm and perfect. He showed her the kitchen, equipped with the finest appliances and warm tiled walls. Fresh winter flowers hung on a jar by the frost-covered window. Nina could only find it in herself to think that, despite it all, she was sorry she had not perfected her cooking skills sooner.

He led her back to the living room and sat her on the couch. “Do you like it?” He asked, sitting beside her, still holding her hand.

“It’s wonderful,” Nina said. “I would have decorated it just like this.”

“I know,” he grinned. “There is a lot we don’t need, but you would insist on the marbled fireplace and-“

“It is a really nice fireplace,” Nina murmured.

He smiled at her again.

Nina could not think of a single thing to say. So she said again, “I miss you.”

“I know, my love.”

He stroked the back of her hand, and entwined their fingers. She could feel the sheer strength in his muscles, his bones, in that gesture alone. He kissed her knuckles. Nina imagined herself, all of a sudden, standing with him in a chapel. Her wedding dress would have been cut to a Ravkan style. The Fjerdans would have been horrified, and Matthias would have laughed and blushed and told her how indecent it was while shaking his finger at her to beckon her closer. He would have taken her hand, in front of the world, and kissed her knuckles. He would have said his vows in heavy-accented Ravkan and whoever was left of his family would have absolutely despised her and despised the whole ordeal and neither of them would have cared. She imagined it all, in those short two seconds it took for him to lower his lips to her hand.

She imagined it all.

And when Matthias looked up at her, lips still lingering on her skin, it was like he could read her mind. His eyes glazed over. And he opened his arms, “Come here.”

She crawled to him, and let him wrap her up against him. The fire was burning and she was warmer than she had ever been in her life. Nina never wanted to leave his arms again. She wanted to live in dreams.

He placed his chin on her shoulder, and his thighs hugged the sides of her body. “This – it is all for you.”

“I know,” she whispered, voice cracking at the edge of the word. “I know.”

There were only these moments with him. Moments she knew would not last. But it was all she had, and so Nina let her head rest against his chest, let her heart take wings and fly to him.

“Matthias,” she said. “Matthias.”

Just his name. She just wanted to say his name and feel, hear, his heart quicken.

“Nina,” he kissed her cheek. “Little red bird.”

“Don’t let me go.”

His arms squeezed her, keeping her from disintegrating. The ache in her chest was the only real thing, but the shattering of her heart became background noise when his calm, slow breathing reached her ears.

“I don’t want to be sad,” she said quietly, resting her hands atop of his. “I want to be sad here.”

“Then don’t be,” Matthias said, hands pressing against her stomach, caressing her. “I am here.”

She had to turn her face to see it for herself. And, indeed, there he was. A blond piece of hair fell onto his forehead, his ice blue eyes still gleamed, his lips were tinted red from the cold. She wondered if he did feel cold, after all. She wondered if he felt as cold as hers when they didn’t meet in her dreams.

They were so close they shared breath.

“Do you still remember my kisses, Nina?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Nina’s attention flew to his hard swallow, the increasing beat of his heart.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I still remember what you taste like,” he told her, tracing her jaw with his index finger, and then her bottom lip with his thumb. “Like wild things.”

When she looked up, his eyes were following the movement of his fingers with predatory focus. Her breath came out in ragged pants. Her tears dried on her face.

“Matthias,” she said again, lower than a whisper.

He leaned down. Touched his forehead to hers. There was no urgency in his moves, no rush. Calmness, peace. That’s what Nina felt here with him, in this space that was really nowhere but absolutely the only place she wanted to be at. This place she had with him – it was something in between brackets, something that lived apart from the real world.

It was the brightest place. The darkest place, too.

“Let me kiss you one more time,” he murmured to her, closing his eyes.

A world of their own, a world within a world, a world between brackets – and still he hesitated. And still he asked.

Nina had to smile. “Just kiss me, you brute.”

The first touch of his lips left her dizzy. The second left her wanting.

Nina turned in his arms, and Matthias welcomed her home. It was slow, always tender, the way he kissed her. Like he wanted to make sure he took in every taste, safeguarding it for later. Nina understood. She wanted to do the same. She wanted to remember the way his lips felt against hers, wanted to remember, late at night, how he held her chin between two fingers and let his tongue touch her parted mouth before his lips caressed hers.

He tasted the same, like she always knew he would taste. Like something she could never name. No languages offered the right terms for it.

“Nina,” he gasped against her mouth as she tugged at his shirt, pulling him back with her.

“Give me this,” she asked him, knowing what came next. “Just give me this. One more time.”

“Nina,” he said again, and she didn’t miss the sadness that coated his voice.

“Don’t,” she whispered, shaking her head, fisting at his shirt and urging him to lay atop her on the couch. She looked up at him, so beautiful and sad, his body in between her thighs. “Don’t.”

He let Nina kiss him again, her arms around his shoulders. Matthias gave in to her with only a small sigh escaping him, and nothing much was said.

Nina touched his cheeks, pulling away for breath. Her lungs were constricting just by looking at him. “Matthias,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Nina,” he smiled, and that sadness reached his eyes. He shook his head slowly, the tip of his nose touching hers. The weight of his body on top of hers was everything. “Beautiful Nina. Sweet, wild Nina.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Why are you sorry, my love?” He asked her, leaning down again. His heart was full of love for her, and it was distributed in gentle kisses, placed all over her face, wherever he could reach. Her sobs died down once more, her tears coated his lips. Matthias murmured, “Don’t be sorry, Nina. I’m home.”

“I’m not here,” she shook her head at him, gripping his cheeks tighter. “I’m not here. I’m not here.”

“Nina,” he touched her cheeks, too. “You are my dream. This,” he gestured to the house, “This is my dream. I have it all. I have you. I have everything I could ever want.”

“It’s not real,” she said brokenly.

“The purest of dreams, my love,” he said to her, “it’s what this place is. And it’s real. Djel has made my dream true. Believe I am happy, Nina, with this place.”

“I don’t know how to believe,” Nina said to him, lowering her eyes to the corner of his mouth. She could not gather the strength to face the blue skies in his eyes while there was so much grey in her heart. “To me this is a dream. I don’t have you in my life. Your death-“ 

“Life is what we make of it,” Matthias said. “And so is death. And so is reality. This – you and me – it is real for me. It is one reality, among others.”

She could not begin to understand him, as much as she tried. Death was not something that could be explained. And Nina could not, would not, waste what little time she had left pondering more about it. About where he was; what kind of reality he found himself in. Her heart rested easy in the idea of his smile. It eased knowing he was home, at last. And that was all that mattered.

“But it is not real for you,” he continued, stroking her cheek. “It is not your dream.”

“You’re my dream.”

“You will live to have many, many dreams, Nina,” Matthias smiled. “I was lucky to be one of them.”

Nina didn’t understand how those words were simultaneously a stinging stab in her heart and a calming wave rolling down her body. It hurt to know it, to admit it, but- 

But in her bones she knew she was beginning to accept it.

“Am I still your dream? After your death?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “You and this. Peace and quiet, snow and the wolves in the hills.”

He kissed her again. A peck of his lips that was as soft as a harp string being pulled. A finger touching a cloud. A leaf falling in a pond. It was a kiss that threatened to send her down that line again – where she kept him chained to her heart, hoping, desperately waiting. For it was so like the kisses she still held prisoners in the back of her mind, trapped there to remind her of what she had lost.

Too soon, he pulled back. Nudging her nose with his, he whispered, “Do you want to see?”

And before Nina could ask what he was referring too, she was standing in front of a door. She knew they were on the second floor, for she did not remember him showing it to her. The long corridor was carpeted, and warm like the rest of the house.

She looked at him expectantly. Matthias smiled.

A cry sounded from inside the bedroom, and Nina actually stumbled back into his chest, gasping, startled. It was a shrill sound, only a baby could make such a sound. And then, as quick as it started, it was gone.

She opened the door.

She was watching herself hold a newborn baby, his mop of white hair curling at the ends. Her body was changed, bigger and firmer, her breasts more round, her hips larger, her hair shorter. Nina kissed her baby, murmuring soothing words, happy words. The real Nina stood in the doorway, feeling Matthias’ warmth against her back.

The second Matthias, the one being showed to her, came into view. He wrapped his arms around dream-Nina, touching the back of his baby’s head. He had his father’s eyes, too. She could not hear what they were saying to each other, but she could see the love between them. The happiness. A future she could have had – right in front of her. A life that had been ready for her. For them both. Her heart cracked open.

Matthias closed the door, and the vision disappeared.

Nina blinked, and felt fresh tears fall to the ground. She reached for the handle, but then the door was not there anymore. She was standing in the snow.

Matthias looked down at her. He was no longer smiling.

“Nina-“

“No-“

She turned, and turned again. The house was gone. The dream was gone.

“No,” she gasped, clutching at her chest. “Matthias-“

He held her at the elbows, preventing her from falling. He pressed her against his chest, but Nina closed her hands into fists and pounded. Matthias did not move. He was stone. And Nina was glass.

Anger scratched at her, digging its claws into her eyes and ripping apart her heart. Fear was grey roses with their thorns poking into her chest. She screamed and thrashed against his chest like she was pounding at the doors of Matthias’ god, demanding that he bring back the dream, that he made it her reality. The long-lost dream, forever gone. It had been so beautiful. She would’ve had a child. She would’ve had a life. Gentle and quiet. The war won, the happiness restored. It would have been so beautiful.

He held her.

She was kneeling in the snow and he was kneeling with her. His arms around her, his kisses on her face, her lips. His voice telling her that she would be alright.

Hours or days passed. It could have been months. And even then, when the snow reached her waist, and the snowflakes covered her shoulders, Nina could only feel his warmth. Her body, or her mind, tricked her into believing it was real.

“It was a beautiful dream,” Matthias whispered. “It was, Nina. But it’s not meant for you.”

It was all she’d ever wanted, she wanted to scream. But her voice was not found.

“No, it’s not, my love,” Matthias said. “Do you know why I showed you, Nina?”

He had never meant to hurt her. And yet her heart clenched in rage, in sadness. She did not speak.

“You would be happy with me,” he said. “With this life. Yes, it is true. But,” he wiped a tear, and lifted her chin, urging her eyes to meet his, “You are meant for this dream and so much more, Nina. You cannot give up on all your other dreams still to come for one that is already lost.”

“Don’t say that-“

“Look at me, beautiful.”

She did. He was crying. “Let me go, Nina,” he said. “Let this dream go. Another is waiting.”

“I want you,” she told him, hands cupping his face. She kissed him, once, twice. “But I want you.”

“You will always save a place in your heart for me,” he said. “I know it. But look beyond the snow, Nina. Flowers are growing.”

She started to shake her head, but his eyes turned to her. Nina wiped his tears away, her own vision blurred. She knew it – of course she knew it. It had to stop. It was time to move on. To chase a new dream. But memories were tricky things. They too had claws. And sometimes their talons just stabbed too deep.

“Life is waiting,” Matthias said. “And I want you to live, Nina.” He smiled, despite the tears. He smiled for her. “I want you to have everything you wish for. You have brought me home. And I need you to find your own.”

Because that house – it was not really her home. Maybe it could have been once, before the shot of a gun. But the world changed, and Nina had to change with it. Or else she would end up buried in the snow, and her petals would never rise. She would never see colours again.

“Leave me,” Matthias said.

“How?” She murmured.

He kissed her cheek. Said, “Look for that dream, deep within. Listen to it calling your name.”

One last kiss – that’s what he offered her. The snow was melting.

“Let go, Nina. Let me go.”

“I will not have anything else to hold on to then. I will keep falling into nothing.”

Matthias shook his head, and his mouth quirked up at the corners as if he were containing a laugh. “No, Nina. You will still have your wings. My little red bird. Fly away.”

Her hands slipped from his face. Nina felt the urge to hold him again, but resisted. Winter had to end.

“I have protected you, like I vowed,” he said. “Know that you were the sunrise between the trees, Nina. You were my blue skies. Know you have never needed protection from anything. Thunder fears no lightning. I will leave you. You will leave me. And the sun will shine again, my love. I promise you.”

“And if the skies keep turning grey?”

He felt further away from her now, a dream slipping away. “Then look for that dream, Nina. That dream will be your wings.”

Nina closed her eyes, feeling the warm breeze on her face. She did not see him leave, but she felt it in her heart, that hole being stitched closed. It was not perfect – the cracks could still be felt and seen, and despite the pain Nina knew – hoped – that someday it might heal.

“My little red bird. Fly away.” Were his last words.

Nina opened her eyes.

The boat cabin was filled with the early morning rays, weak but warm nonetheless. She looked through the dirty window, watching Ketterdam approaching. The skies were blue. There would be no tempest today.

Nina touched a finger to her lips.

She let go.

The world between brackets did not exist anymore. It was gone.

Nina was surprised to feel her feet steady, her heart calm.

“Until we meet again, Matthias,” she murmured.

Because the hardest part of letting go was not unwrapping your fingers from the rope. It was keeping yourself standing when you finally hit the ground. She was wobbly, but she could stand. She would stand.

Nina Zenik wiped the grime off her window, and peered out at the bright blue sea, hearing the men outside screaming at each other mixing with the sound of the waves rocking the ship. The prospect of seeing her friends again made her dress more quickly that morning. It was strange feeling at home in Ketterdam – but that’s where she was headed.

Looking in the mirror, Nina smiled.

Yes, the hardest part would be to keep herself standing after letting go. But as she watched her crooked city come closer and closer to her, Nina felt the hope grow around the thorns, and she believed that it would not be as brutal, because now she had people to ease her fall. And most of all, she had herself.

She had herself. And she would grow beyond the snow. She would blossom into a world of colour.


End file.
